


Trouble With A Capital T

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-22
Updated: 2010-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Jim Kirk is concussed while doing something laudable, but lacking in common sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble With A Capital T

"So, let me get this straight," said Sam, plodding up the porch's wooden steps. Flat on his back on the swing, his arm thrown across his face to shield his eyes from the late afternoon sunlight, Jim heard the boards creaking beneath his feet.

His brother stopped about a foot away from him and poked at his arm. "Hey, you even awake?"

Jim mumbled a _gotohell_ , which Sam either didn't understand or chose to ignore because next thing he knew, his brother was shoving him aside so he could sit on the swing too. The world around Jim seemed to rock crazily. His head throbbed, and his stomach gave a tremendous lurch. He thought he was going to be sick again, but he'd already changed his clothes once since getting home and he didn't want to do it again, so he just sucked air into his lungs and held it for as long as he could.

None of this was lost on Sam, who, after some moments of hesitation – either due to disgust or pity, Jim would never be sure – took his arm and nudged it rather gently away from his face.

"Aw, man," said Sam. "It _is_ true. You stupid idiot. How come you didn't have someone drive you to the hospital or something?"

"Didn't wanna," Jim grumbled. "Anyway, m'okay."

"The hell you are."

Jim knew what his brother saw: a walnut-sized bump on his dirt-smeared forehead, one pupil noticeably bigger than the other. It wasn't Jim's first concussion.

Sam heaved a sigh. "You're an idiot. How come you did it?"

"It was her _cat_ ," said Jim. "Her dumb cat was stuck in a tree."

"So? You coulda called a firefighter. Or got someone to come with a ladder. You didn't have to climb after it yourself."

"Yeah, I did." Jim smiled. "She said she'd kiss me if I did."

"Did she kiss you?"

"No," Jim admitted with disappointment.

Sam sighed again and pushed himself off the swing. Jim groaned and closed his eyes tightly against the wave of nausea. He heard Sam enter the house by the front door, heard him moving around in the kitchen, probably getting a lemonade or something.

But when Sam came back it was with a dishrag full of ice cubes, which he dropped unceremoniously on Jim's forehead.

Jim recoiled from the sharp cold. The dishrag started to slide off his forehead but Sam caught it in time and held it in place.

"Didn't even get a kiss," he said, shaking his head at Jim. "You idiot."

"I know, I know. Just – could you stop moving your head like that? It's making me—" The nausea came again, though not as intensely this time. The ice was actually helping.

"When Frank gets home, he's taking you to the doctor. And oh, man. You…" He was quiet for a long moment. Then he said uncertainly, "Uh, Jim? There's a bunch of girls coming up the driveway."

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, Jim tried to raise his head. With a hand on his shoulder, Sam pushed him back down. "Ow."

"Shut up," Sam said to him. Then, apparently addressing the girls: "Uh, hi. What do you all want?"

"We came to see Jim."

That sounded like Latrisha Stevens, Jim thought. They had second period art together. She was _really_ pretty.

"Jim's kind of a mess right now," his stupid brother said.

"Yeah, we know. We heard he fell out of Melanie Dixon's maple tree or something, trying to get her stupid cat down."

"It was nothing," Jim wheezed chivalrously.

"Yeah, well, we also heard she promised she'd do something if you saved her stupid cat, and she didn't. So, um…"

Jim heard her footfalls on the porch steps. Then she was ducking right under Sam's arm and kissing him clumsily – but sweetly – on the cheek. Her lip gloss smelled like cherries and vanilla.

"It was nothing," Jim insisted.

"Liar," Sam muttered as Latrisha slipped away.

After her, Sophie Sparrow took her turn kissing him, and she wore actual lipstick, so you could see where her lips had been – right there on the bridge of his nose. Then came Beverly Watson. And after her came Liu Wang. And after her came Ruthie Silverstein. And so on.

"I wish we still used money," Sam grumbled at some point. "I'd charge admission."

8/1/2009


End file.
